Page 42 of From Scotland with Love

“Lori this is madness, we’re about to take off!” Michael was still in his seat, with the seat-belt firmly fastened. “Why don’t you quickly call them back, perhaps they’ve been caught up in the moment, and are just exaggerating things. Was it Tammy you spoke to?” He tried to placate her.

“No! I have to go! And it was Jean I spoke to!” She marched towards the stewards who were discussing with one another the dangers of opening the door at this late stage.

“Sit down Lori!” Michael ordered, and Lori turned back.

“It’s my gran, Michael!” Tears streamed down her face and the other passengers were now watching the spectacle unfold in front of them, moments before the entertainment on their screens began.

“Yes Lori, it’s your gran. Not your mum, not your dad - your gran. She’s old, darling. This was always going to happen some day.” He whispered the words soothingly, and at that moment everything made sense to Lori. She knew what mattered to her, and what mattered to Michael. He was not the man with whom she belonged. He had been brought up not to care, not to be vulnerable, or take risks, or accept change, and Lori did not want a life spent being his wife. She pulled off the diamond engagement ring and threw it at him.

“I can’t believe you, Michael. She looked after me when my parents died! She looked after all of us! Please - go back to New York, to your simple, cold, clear-cut world and never call me again!”

Michael picked up the ring, staring at it. Lori marched up to the doors to be led off the plane.

24

“Where is she?” Lori ran into the emergency unit to find Jean and Tammy sitting anxiously together under the stark bright light.

“They’ve taken her in to operate. Oh Lori what will we do without Gran?” Tammy cried, and Lori embraced her, stroking her hair.

“We don’t know anything, no one will tell us anything.” Jean chewed her fingernail and made a quick phone call to check on the girls.

“What happened?” Lori needed answers, anything right now to help her focus on what steps to take to help Gran.

“We were sitting down to dinner, not long after you left. Gran got up to get the salt and pepper, but she came back, without either, and started mumbling something about granddad, and the pickles, then... then she collapsed on the ground before she reached the table.” Tammy choked on her tears, and Lori hugged her again, trying to soothe her.

Lori left Tammy perched on the chair beside Jean, and went looking for answers. The hospital was huge, and being the main establishment that everyone from the furthest Highlands and Islands used, it was busy with people coming and going. She thought of the last words her gran had said to her. She couldn’t lose the old lady now, she just couldn’t bear it. Why had she spent all those years away from home, from Gran, and her family? And then to have to let her go forever after just two weeks together again? She had wasted years working, for what? Self-induced panic attacks and a boyfriend who didn’t love the real her. Her gran was her home, and if she lost her - well she couldn’t bear to think of it. Lori managed to get hold of a receptionist, a nurse, and then a doctor. All of whom told her to be patient, that her gran was in the emergency ward and they would be in touch as soon as she came out. So Lori reluctantly went back to the waiting room with her sisters, all of them too upset to talk to one another, but remained together in quiet companionship. Hours passed as they waited, eating junk food from the vending machine and gazing numbly at everyone who walked past.

Jean looked at her phone. “The girls should be in bed by now.” She swiped the screen and gazed at images on some social media platform.

“Who’s looking after them?” Lori yawned and stretched, her back, which ached from sitting on uncomfortable waiting-room chairs. Her body was tired, but her mind was alert looking at the door each time it opened. And each time her heart sank with disappointment as no news came.

“Karen has them. I feel so bad, but she was there with us at Gran’s. She said she’d take them into school tomorrow on her way to work.”

“She’s such a good friend. I didn’t realise you knew each other so well?” Lori welcomed the distraction of getting her mind off the hospital.

“Yeah the girls love her, we’ve been to see her at the shop a few times now, as well as the Highland games the other day. Which reminds me, how did things go with Callum? He left the shinty match rather promptly, saying he was coming to see you. But before I could say anything, he was gone, just like that!” Jean clicked her fingers for effect.

“We... just talked.” Lori lied, avoiding eye contact with Jean. “Then Michael came in with Gran.”

“Oh?” Jean put her phone away and folded her arms waiting for further embellishment, but Lori made it clear with a single glance that she was giving away nothing further at this stage. After dozing for some time, Tammy had opened her eyes and quietly listened in to the conversation, hoping she hadn’t missed anything. Jean shifted in her seat as their youngest sister woke, avoiding Lori’s eyes. “I... may need to tell you something, Lo. I chatted to Callum before you guys left to go island-hopping.”

Lori looked up to quiz Jean, but was interrupted by a man in a white coat.

“Are you Mary’s granddaughters?” They nodded and followed the man down a long corridor. He gestured to them to go into Gran’s room, where she lay, eyes closed and bandages smothering one side of her head. She looked so weak, with her makeup removed and wires fastened to her frail body. The girls went over to her, and she murmured something briefly, her eyes remaining closed. The doctor closed the door behind him “She had a blockage which deprived her brain of oxygen. As far as we can tell, it was simply due to her age. Given the history Jean has given me, there doesn’t seem to be anything anyone could have done to avoid this. Even healthy people like your gran can have a stroke.”

Tammy gasped and buried her head into Lori’s shoulder. Lori patted Tammy’s hair. “Will she be OK?”

With hands in pockets, the doctor glanced over to Gran, then back to Lori, making her heart stop, waiting for an answer. “It’s difficult to know at this stage.” A nurse came into the room and busied herself around Gran, checking her pillow and the screen that stood beside the bed. The doctor nodded to the nurse. “What she needs is rest. The paramedics got her in record-timing, and we were alerted she was coming so we could prepare for the operation immediately. She needs monitoring, time to see how far she can recover, and you three to make sure you’re ready to keep her spirits up when she comes round properly. The nurses will let you have some time with her, and then we can give you a little bit more information and advice once we see what progress she’s making.” He gave a grim smile, then left the room with the nurse at his side.

The sisters remained by Gran and Lori held onto her hand gently. She had made up her mind, she would stay. Gran wouldn’t be left alone. She sat on one of the chairs next to the bed, and continued to hold onto the frail pink hand lying limp on the bedspread.

Callum was consumed by the game before him. The opposition were winning, and he couldn’t let that happen. The Lochalsh boys would make going to the pub a nightmare with their taunts and constant gloating. The referee threw the ball up high and the players were instantly in the air, in hot pursuit. Callum ran along the edge of the field, waiting for his team-mate to pass, and ready to take it up to the line. He was going to win this game, he told himself as the crowd cheered. Then the ball came at him with such speed that he was almost blown off his feet. It was Alan’s pass, he had a force behind him that no-one else could match. Callum didn’t waste a second, as the opposition would be on his tail, so he darted left and right, trying to rid himself of the players that were now closing in on all sides. He was fast, this was what he was good at, what he had always been good at, and all that mattered right now was just him, the ball and the goal. He ploughed on, and time slowed right down, making the seconds feel like minutes. He was so close to the goal; this was it, now was the time. He smashed the ball from a side-angle into the goal, but to his shock, he didn’t score. The goalie blocked it, and the opposition had the ball now, which was quickly moving back to the other side of the field. Callum focused back in on the game, crushing the disappointment down into his stomach, his hands tense around the caman, waiting for his next opportunity. But that opportunity never came, and not long after the miss the referee blew the whistle: the game was over.

Back in the changing rooms, after hearing the gloats from the other team, Callum knew he needed to get out, to clear his head. His hands had been tense and rigid for days, and he needed some sort of release which neither the game, nor the promise of alcohol after it, would fulfil.

“You’re losing your touch, Cal-mac,” jested Ryan, one of his team’s players. “We might need to get a younger model if you keep this up, old man.” He laughed, then muttered something in gaelic that Callum didn’t hear. They had never got on, though Callum didn’t really understand why. They had much in common, but for some reason Ryan made Callum want to punch his lights out at any given moment. In principle, Callum agreed: he was the oldest team member, but only by a few years. Something Ryan always made sure to mention, insisting on calling him “Cal-mac”, a nickname he’d come up with which referred to the name of the local old ferry boat, and infuriated Callum all the more. He tried to not let it bother him, and usually it didn’t. But today, he was not in the mood, and if Ryan kept up the gibes, he would be sorry.

“Oh aye, Ryan,” Callum scratched his wet head of hair with his towel. “You’ve not scored us a goal in -” He paused. “Actually I cannae think the last time you got us any points. Anyone would think you can’t play!” He scoffed. “Maybe it helps that your uncle is a sponsor!”